Where we find ourselves

by Sankofa

Broken Drums 04:14
What do you aspire to be? A certified monster rhyming on the mightiest beats Or a final supper reseller buying a seat Or a viral sensation with a violent disease? See the cats you idolize are the ones that I despise And just cause I’m older doesn’t mean that I am wise over the years I’ve grown a bit with showmanship and I’m prone to rip The microphone to bits and by the time i get to Arizona it’s a bonus with Arvydis with a pair of knees with which he’d dominate the game Rules have changed, a complicated aim It’s more than just a case of generational gaps Our destinations are found in different cases of maps I was using a compass, now it’s GPS New accomplishments feel like a cheat sheet rep I can try to appreciate it, but it isn’t for me So I can complain about it or make a blizzard to beats See, dues are paid in such different ways & me being hard headed is a trip to the grave So now I’m making raps for the fan that I once was And hopefully you will hear and think that it’s fun stuff Take your kids and your hold them tight Life is just a rolling dice Trapped within a molten vice Basking in the poltergeist A basket that is rolling faster, passengers on colder nights Another yarn spun, unraveling on shoulders, high Not guardian or gatekeeper, just a guy who loves to rap DJ, if the song is dope, please run it back Never made a ton of scratch, my resume is a hobbyist Got a white beard, but not making a good and naughty list Who am I to judge, bitterness it can creep fast And then build walls before I even get to breathe...that Can prove problematic, so step back Catch a bird’s eye view seems to be the best path Need to be more bamboo and less glass And realize it’s not my call to call if they have trespassed I am but one in a land of many and not a center piece But it’s too easy to slide into a pattern of bitter venom speech My ambition is fully clothed, there’s no nakedness I don’t even like tank tops, so save the glitz Courageously raging against machines and petroleum But nonetheless a hypocrite, see the ride that I’m rolling in Emboldened whims going out on limbs for the sake of sport I camped by the radio with blanks just to tape some more American Top Forty my satellite was cream colored A double A powered Sputnik guided by Kasey Kasem Waiting, anxiously hoping for Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince Holding off emaciation with a mix tape’s creation Less sophisticated but plenty more idealistic That tricky balance is exactly what I feel this is A field of misses, dreams that scream and squeal, resistant interrupted by seams that have ruptured, thus revealed the schism Appeal is hidden between the fissures that refuse to heal Who needs a boost when this is life already too surreal No medicine provides replenishment, pariah benefits I keep itemizing betterment, like life is edited Surprise the measuring tape longer than my path was My life is half up, bodily husk shuffling half dusk Can’t trust the voltage running through this scatterbrain of mine Steadily getting played, even though I had a game in mind
Dope Shadow 04:37
Time to turn all these loose papers into dope raps Crumpled ideas by the pocketful of hope’s salve The creases tend to eat my lines and make it difficult To recapture what was written, citizen who’s cynical Hidden in the interval is ink poured for sacrifices A measure of time spent and that’s the crisis Making time to get it right cause otherwise That puff of pride is long gone and nothing thrives In the dead of night, fatigue is fought And if inspiration dies, well indeed it’s lost Got me screaming from the top of my lungs Cause when I wrote it, that was going to be the best that song that I’d ever done Now it’s gone and all I’m left with is the could have beens Another crooked conclusion caught upon a look within Brushed under the rug with the elephant tusks Making something for them and then they sell it as us Make it catchy for the trust fall and zealots erupt Enveloped in inelegant lust I’m telling them,p.us So cop the freshest that won’t fade with obsolescence No gobs of weapons, just dope phrases, stop and reckon Some sought the essence and donate a thoughtful message My man Jake’s got the gold chains, I’m off the record See, I walk with a talkative ethic, hip hop in its essence topical or getting into awesome preventive Dominant medic embedded my exoskeleton find my rep and connect the deffest of embellishments Ego next to swell against the walls that this world assembles Curl the tendrils and hold me close to the pure essentials My burden’s mental, booming system with a nervous central Found inside it, when my thoughts get deep the ground is highest Tobias sound messiah with proprietary flights that vary Traveling, or just a passerby If you think it’s all about the dollars, you’re dead wrong I don’t do features, I drop raps on friends’ songs Mutual respect, not shoot me a check Couldn’t make me bat an eye with aluminum threats Who are you to impress, the stress is ruinous, yes Subdued human with a movement direct, beats are Rubenesque Thick and beautiful, my gloomy days depict a funeral Elicit musical ways to freeze the state of usual Utilizing suitable tools until my mood arises Elusive prices paid for usage of a gruesome crisis A noose suffices for a truth replacement, true amazement Building fallen kingdoms coming in pursuit of Vegas Peruse the pages that I’ve drowned in blood from many fallen pens Divining purpose in the passages I call intent For all the gems taken to make the streets the foolish gold tread I hold threads of dreams, arisen in a cold sweat While most slept, the mold crept and overcame Cracked earth burning midnight oil the hope of rain A chosen name weighed against the birth certificate Is the curse to see it all or simply worse to live in it Determined juggling cynical thoughts and idealism The more I know, the less I care for this surreal prism Determined juggling cynical thoughts and idealism The more I know, the less I care for this surreal prism
I’ve got some talented eyeballs y’all, they earn wrinkles Blinking the same time as most turn signals Wait...you’re telling me that folks don’t use them? It’s cool, go ahead and break those rules friend They’re only there to get broken right? Government, look at them, trying to provoke a fight Sometimes, a flickering brake light’s the clue So I’m following, yet providing plenty of room It’s not that I don’t trust you, I don’t trust you Defensive driving’s simply something I must do I’ve got insurance, but I kind of dig the car I have Sore necks and pain pills, I want no part of that Wouldn’t mind a garage instead of a gravel pit to park in back But it’s off the narrow roads so good at getting cars a scratch My car’s got a game it plays to petrify Tells me a tire is low, but it just won’t specify I’m not superhuman zooming, I’ve just driving man On some point A to point B, check the diagram Plus your diaphragm cause you’re overenthused Look we’ve all got to share these roads that we use I’ll pull to the side to let oncoming traffic drive through Then they act like I’m not there, like what did I do? I guess my kindness got mistaken for invisible cloaks So I may play chicken in my Prius like ‘nope’ You shall not pass, Kobe jersey on your hot trash Wooden spoiler on your car chopped up in shop class See tough actin’ in bubbly tint and blackeded rims Cussed me out my 3 year old waved, what’s happening? Now you’re feeling guilty cause I’ve got a little passenger And you used some choice vocab when you had the nerve You spun and zoomed your cool ride the other way I’ll take your tire wear for an apology, so what they hey You’re stressed, I’m chilling, you know, driving sons and such Coming home from the splash pad, having fun, what’s up? Look, I’m sorry that your job is wack But don’t take it out on me that you spent it on that I want to live to old an age, so donate your road rage It goes great with flame decals on your motorhome, beige And okay, if you want to ride my bumper just go ahead I’ll just hit cruise control at the speed limit, no regrets sweat got you soaking wet, stressed with some gasoline Fort Wayne Fury, flash back to Master P Miles per gallon seems like pretty simple math to me I’ll hit the Waze app to find my way back from Abilene What’s happening with people parking in the middle of the road? Holding conversations, either pull aside or go I mean, aren’t streets built for bikes and cars to roll on? Unless you’re Kurt Russell broken down, then I am so wrong And my apologies, I’d help push but I’ve got crutches man If not, heed Luda’s advice, duck and scram Broken rearview on my right hand side 7 years of bad backing up luck on my ride
What you see is what you get Suckers sweat like octopuses hovering above a puffing vent What the heck, go ahead and rubberneck Blowing a gasket, focused and dope as it has been Chosen to go for Jurassic, and that’s the butter rep Certified to burn a mic to filaments, my mind is villainous Still it is meaning something, the beat is bumping illnesses Wandering round the wilderness with a couple of thrilling kids My sons who run, get out of breath, dressed in killer kicks But I snagged them on super clearance, and so I’m fine with it Life’s too short to keep kid kicks shiny slick They don’t have shoebox homes like the kind that mine do Except for the pairs they’ll grow into as time moves future shoes, Akronites, Pennys, New Balances, Reeboks, adidas indeed there is plenty to stack in sight Tony’s pizza with the Rolando flip, lyric touch of fresh baker’s dozen cassettes at the ready to bust and crush the deck Welcome to the track, Pain in the Business Pain in the Business, What’s that? Pain in the Business Take a swoop of soup with the ladle and sip it Creatively, we made it exquisite admittedly painting it vivid Examining the depth of my navel Inevitably gets to residency of age old Places that I used to call home with no welcome mat And sleep is where i’d go when I felt attacked I’d seldom act on ideas that born from those times But that doesn’t mean i didn’t consider them mine Perhaps that’s why evil is easy to write to me I try to live righteously vibing inside of society The rivalry between good and evil in me is minor league Evil really doesn’t stand a chance, struggling mightily Not gaining any ground but it poses with grimaces Trying to convince i it’s global and limitless It’s broken into itty bits, so cute and hideous Blisters on its tongue from calling other dudes some idiots But looking in that mirror is the scariest act everyone else is to blame when the air, it is black And that’s a fact For Christmas, I got a how to be garbage rapper kit Half a lung, half a tongue, ...and even half a wit ...miraculously enough i got an upgrade Cause this is how to get enough pay in such days recording to my phone with Walter screaming in the background dad libs of brotherhood and that’s now I’m representing life experience despite the weariness So thankful for the people who are taking time to hear a bit Honestly, I’m taken aback when hearing dudes are playing tracks To inspire others is about the dopest gauge of dap Some folks bump songs I forgot that i wrote Then I go back to the track and realize that it’s dope Apparently my catalog is stronger than my memory And somewhere, Tupac is sipping Hennessy with enemies I couldn’t resist, the groove is a superconductor and I’m powerless I call Fort Wayne home and I’m dope, that’s how it is
And that skateboard of mine became a passport A urethane wheeled limousine complete with crash course Right thumb permanently bigger than my left one Screaming voiceless when all my breath had left lungs The friendships I made continue to this very day The nervous bank teller hoping boys would go their merry way Running from the mall security, hauling down back alleys Green light means go, scared hearts in that valley Cleaning out the bearings, swapping out the decks and trucks Maintenance was a favorite, could never get enough Summer job money gave me fuel to keep the habit up Slimeballs and some Thunder trucks, I'm nabbing stuff Had a Gator sweatshirt before he had went nuts Silkscreened my own Bones Brigade sweatshirt, but the S sucked Looked kind of like an R and that was junior high days Speed wobbles were a killer, board it would vibrate The colder a day, the longer the sting of a fall would last Got myself leather gloves with the foam for the crash Calling time and temp hoping the rain wouldn't fall Wishing we had a skatepark and instead of a mall Chris, Trevor, Ben, and myself, riding skateboards The only thing I really wanted to do was skate more We weren't that great, but we had a lot of fun with it Same terrain came with new thrills with the sun hidden Caballero with the Boneite, rolling on Vision XTs Independent 159s and Schmitt Stix Powell Peralta tail bone kept my ollies guilt free My first pro model to this day I can still see Snapped my Roskopp street at the bandstand Blamed it on the narrow hip area, Van Damme Each left kick ended up coated in shoe goo The grip tape versus shoe battle that shoes lose Cutting grip tape in ill ways with the snap blades Finishing the job with paint pens to pass the black days Mike McGill skull and snake taught me how to illustrate Pretty much all I drew and did the illest takes Animal Chin didn’t need to sweat me spilling beans Skate videos constantly supplied the illest dreams Bass line, Black Flag’s six pack mesmerized me That I followed those breadcrumbs to more tunes was less suprising Playing skate or die on my friend's Nintendo And 720 on the Atari gnarly crescendo Eighth grade dyed my bangs at Eric Bunde's with raw bleach Right before school picture day, I'm the boss, please Hook The clinic parking curb so slick that we were scared of it Hit that parking lot but wouldn’t dare touch it Skating in my basement in the coldest Minnesota winters Ducking so I didn’t clip my head, getting rolled and injured Our bible, the California Cheap Skates catalog And pretty much any dimension I could rattle off Minis and fulls, wheel durometers and and truck widths Thumbing through those worn pages gave me such bliss The ramp you had to find a notary to sign the waiver for Legendary older skaters, greater than the ways we tore Riding down hill in the middle of the road Invincibility is for the young who didn't know Skateboarding isn't a crime, slap the sticker up Ask my spattered Micky Alba shirt, I'm giving blood Old scabs spilling fresh red after new falls The abbatoir look complete with a few crawls Had a pair of monster Rectors keeping my knees safe Felt like a bullet proof jacket for each leg Skatemaster Tate selling tapes on the back of Thrasher Transworld felt like a sellout cause passion matters


Originally entitled Crutch Raps, this started forming back when I was sitting around with a snapped achilles, thinking what can I do with such a setback. Chad had some dope beats and, next thing you know, I was working on songs, distracted from my immobility.

The OG artwork was going to be the Jackass skull and crutches, though with my logoman head taking the place of the skull. Turns out I ended up finding a photo which then gave me a better idea of what the EP would be named, thus Where We Find Ourselves, which I promise is not a self-help book. Over the years, I've taken many photographs which have prompted people to say "that's an album cover." This is the first time I beat someone to that punch.


released March 17, 2019

Produced by Chad Wesley Snipes
Scratches on Dope Shadow by DJ Eyeball




Sankofa Fort Wayne

My rhymes kick in like a turbobooster.

Fort Wayne.

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